The Gouger
August 2nd, 2001
It’s been a while since the incident, but Briar already knows about it. She is more observant than most. The medical log says she still has some brain damage, but that’s expected after what it did to her. Every night they record her talking in her room. It’s a sort of high monotone, and when she speaks it listens. This is all they can observe about Briar. She is elusive. She is dead. She is gone. No one mourns her because no one knows about her existence. Briar is gone.
August 4th, 2001
She’s been released, but it isn’t her. It is me. She is gone. I’ve told them that, but they didn’t listen. They had to leave. I must find it.
August 6th, 2001
It found me, and I was ready. It welcomed me. I am home.
August 8th, 2001
It was him, and now they’re gone.
August 10th, 2001
It was him, but they took me. He watched me tonight. His eyes bore into mine. So I took them out. He can’t watch me anymore.
August 12th, 2001
They locked me in again, but I’ll escape for it. It is the Gouger.
August 13th, 2001
The Gouger is angry.
June 6th, 2006
The Gouger is coming for me. None has suffered as great as it.
—
These were excerpts from a journal of a young woman in an asylum named Briar Vale. Vale was found in a forest by her house, covered in blood, with several internal organs hung up in Wal-Mart bags in the trees around her. She was admitted to the Burgh Mental Asylum on the date of May 6th, 2001. Her body was found gutted in the same forest where she was found after escaping from the asylum and killing four doctors. Approximate date of death, March 8th, 2005. The last date is not a mistake.
I have a friend named Jarrod who found this journal in the now abandoned asylum itself when he went in there on a dare. He told us that when he saw the journal there was a high pitched chanting and he heard someone scream. Jarrod thought it was one of us, but we hadn’t heard anything. We all stood there for a second. “You’re crazy,” our other friend Mason snickered. This seemed to upset Jarrod.
“If you think it’s nothing then you go in there. The room number’s 313; I’ll give you a hundred buck if you go in.” Jarrod snapped, and Mason agreed. We all accompanied him to room 313, and locked him in. We waited for a few minutes, and then we all looked over to Jarrod. He sighed and told us to open the door. I went over to the door and unlocked it, but it wouldn’t open. I turned to Jarrod, but he just shrugged.
“Hey Mason! Can you open the door? I think it’s stuck.” While I waited for an answer, I tried the door again. We waited for a while. “Hey Mason?” I called. No response. My buddies and I kept trying to get the door open, but stopped when we heard a growling noise. It didn’t really sound like an animal, but we decided to say that was what it was. At that point, we were all trying not to be too freaked out.
“Should we call the police?” someone asked, but no one answered. There was a loud snapping noise as the door opened, and we all cautiously stepped inside. Mason was curled in a strange position with both of his legs broken. His eyes were glazed over, and he kept repeating the same thing over and over again.
“None has suffered as great as it. None has suffered as great as it. None have suffered as great as it.” He rocked back and forth awkwardly. Jarrod stood there, paralyzed, with a haunted look in his eyes. I walked up to Mason. “Come on guys, let’s go.” I told the others grimly, picking up my friend. A loud bang echoed through the empty building, and everyone but Jarrod jumped and looked around. A shape moved at the end of the hallway, and one of my friends took a picture with his cell phone. The picture is shown below. We all ran out as fast as we could. No matter how much I try to forget the Gouger, he is always in the back of my mind. Now I wonder, has anyone else experienced this terror?
Credited to Responses
Originally uploaded on March 1, 2012
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